


Double Agent Irina

by Han502653



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 15:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han502653/pseuds/Han502653
Summary: While storming down the mountain Irina gets a call. She hoped it was from Lovro but it wasn’t.It was Red Eye, with a warning.(Or, Irina gets enough of a wakeup call to realize the Reaper is manipulating her)





	1. Wake Up Call

Irina’s phone rang.

She was angry, hurt, pissed, _exhausted—so_ much so that she nearly didn’t pick it up.

She _wouldn’t_ have had at all if she hadn’t been desperately waiting for her master to call. He never took this long getting back to her—not, at least, without first warning her that he was going off the grid.

She picked up.

“Gospodin?”

“N-not quite, kiddo.”

Her face soured but she didn’t hang up. This was… _rare._

“Red Eye.”

“T-the one and o-only.”

“What’s wrong with you—you sound like crap?” His voice was choked and breathless; she could hear beeping in the background. She parsed her lips.

“Had a run in with the Reaper.”

Her world froze.

“The… the _Reaper_—_he’s back?”_

She had never had a run in with the Reaper—nobody ever knew they had and lived, but she had heard the stories, the rumors, had kills stolen from her halfway through a con.

For him to be back… and after _Red Eye_ of all people?

“Y-yeah—and he’s after hitmen—or at least Lovro’s ones,” he told her seriously—none of his normal joking tone. “I’ve been calling everyone I can to warn them—only some are picking up—” his tone softened. “Glad you did, Kid.”

Irina’s heart fell. “Lovro…”

“I haven’t b-been able to get in contact with him…”

“I haven’t been able for over a month now,” she admitted.

“He… he may have been the first… then…” Red Eye sighed and Irina’s body went cold. The Reaper had killed Lovro—she knew he’d lost his edge to age but… but…

Her eyes watered slightly and she swallowed heavily, fear clawing up from her core.

“This may be a code red, Kid,” he said and Irina bit her lip. There had always been the threat that Lovro’s network would be targeted to be wiped out. From a country—or multiple of them—who decided the use of Lovro’s network wasn’t worth the risk of it—or from a competitor who wanted to take his place…

But this…

“But also—with that Target—who knows what the m-motive is. Just… be careful, you’re the c-closest one of all of us to it.”

Irina glanced up and around. All she saw were trees and brush but she remembered Lovro’s words. How sooner or later the Reaper would take a try against the Octopus. He was the boogeyman of the hitman world, who knew what he was capable of.

“And I’m w-warning you—Irina,” Red Eye said quietly. “That guy—he has some weird trick—he just—pointed at me and I went down—f-fucked up my lung real bad—probably would have g-gotten my heart if my organs weren’t flipped and wasn’t _this_ a way to figure that q-quirk out…”

“I understand,” she said lowly, on edge, her eyes darting around. She was halfway down the mountain—but if he had _any_ eyes on the path… “…thank you, Red.”

He let out a choked laugh and hung up.

She swallowed, took a deep breath, and then steeled herself. Presuming the Reaper hadn’t caught that call—and if they had she was screwed already—acting skittish and alert would risk alerting him.

So she continued down the mountain, throwing on a face of frustration and a scowl of annoyance—things she still felt if at a great distance under her panic. Should she warn them—could she without exposing herself—were they in danger at all?

The Reaper wasn’t known to kill with a lot of collateral damage—That would be sloppy—and certainly they wouldn’t stoop so low to kill off the kids as competitors…

But she had never heard of them targeting competitors at _all_. They had never targeted her the times they stolen her kills…

She had taken the train—feeling awkward to use the car she’d gotten—and that meant a good ten blocks of walking through the streets entirely exposed.

Maybe she should go back—with Karasuma and the Target she would be in a much better position…

_No._ No she didn’t need them. She couldn’t rely on them.

She would be just fine.

She _wasn’t_ just fine.

The flower seller and his “free” bouquet—she hadn’t needed to read the message in it’s petals to realize who he was—and playing along had only worked for a moment before she was dodging a syringe hidden in a clumsily close wave. His laugh of surprise before _something_ knocked her out still made her feel sick.

Waking at a table unbound, favorite foods from a culture he shouldn’t know she belonged to spread out before her—offers of partnership and sharing the reward made.

He may have even been sincere. There was more money for a group kill—and she did have an inside connection.

But the Reaper didn’t work with others. He certainly didn’t show his face. He didn’t kill competitors—he _beat_ them to the kill.

He’d been a flower seller with meaning in his boutique just after Karasuma—no, _the kids_ had given her those flowers.

He had planned that—this was all a con. He was manipulating her—manipulating the kids.

Manipulating Karasuma even.

He’d wanted her upset. He’d wanted her alone.

He’d _killed _Lovro.

He would kill her to if she refused his plan.

He may kill her anyway—once the reward was given, to take her share. No one knew who the Reaper was. Nobody saw their face.

He would make sure of that.

She had been an idiot—she should have turned back—now she couldn’t.

There was only one thing she could do.

What she was _good_ at.

The kids came—and as they broke through the door and snuck in she realized she wished they hadn’t.

They shouldn’t have—no matter the manipulations. She was just Bitch-sensei, a Bitch. At most they should have told Karasuma.

Karasuma would have been far more useful—presuming he came at all.

But they had—maybe she had been wrong—maybe they had actually grown attached to her—at least a little…

Or maybe they were just _that_ good and innocent.

Nonetheless their trick, good intentions or not, had shown her a truth—this whole mission was just an act in a play, if only on her end, they lived in two different worlds, they didn’t understand… they shouldn’t understand.

But that just meant they didn’t belong here.

And frankly she didn’t want to die if she didn’t have to.

She hadn’t been able to do much the last two days—the Reaper had a king’s hold over the plan despite his instance she was an equal partner. She had tried to dismiss his idea of using her for bait for the children—using the anger she knew he knew she felt as her reasoning—they didn’t really care for her, it was only some trick, an amusement.

He had laughed disarmingly over her concerns, and then smiled that smile—the one that reminded her of Nagisa. She was wrong, he’d explained, they did care, far more than she knew—but only because they were of a different world—they were too trusting, to easily attached, to convinced of heroism and fairy tales.

It was a truth—one that shook her, because she knew he was using that truth to manipulate her.

The last two day had been nothing but manipulating her with the truth.

_They are not of this world. We are born of blood and death. I understand. They do not. They never will. It won’t last. It will ruin you but you can save yourself._

They were all truths, and only some of what he’d shared. Irina shuddered to think how she would have fared without Red Eye’s warning. Without adrenalin clearing her head and raising her guard. Even with it raised she still found herself dwelling on his words. Found her hand shaking, found herself colder than she should be, the phantom touch of another.

He was good.

But dammit—she was the fiddler, not the fiddle. She refused to be played.

And over the last two days—as much as she hadn’t been able to do much to derail Reaper’s plan—she did come to a few realizations.

The Reaper was confident—prideful. He didn’t think he couldn’t fail—but once he was sure he hadn’t he was _absolutely_ sure. He let his guard down. Not a lot—but enough.

And he was certain she was under his control

She made a copy of the keys he gave her—the ones for the collar and cuffs so she could escape the ones she would wear. If he’d been suspicious but unconcerned he would have simply made her collar and cuffs defective, if he thought she was a threat—he’d instead keep her at his mercy once she was in them.

He thought neither and as frustrating as that was she remembered Olga’s advice all those years ago. “It’s a fact of the world that most men underestimate, or even look down upon, woman. Even good men, you will find, do so at an internal—_cultural_ built—level. Most women are frustrated at this, scornful, try to fight or change it—me…” She had smiled. “I see an opportunity. If they see us as not a threat, as a ditz, as less capable, less threatening just by nature—they let down their guard. It’s their mistake—and one I’m happy to take advantage of.”

And so she did.

She couldn’t deny that she felt a high from overpowering the kids—from showing them _exactly_ what she could do. It had been _so_ easy—they had truly thought her weak and useless—a damsel.

_They don’t understand. They don’t see. They are not forged from blood and death. They don’t understand how our world works._

Irina swallowed once at those unwelcome thoughts and continued her task—well aware of the Reaper watching just outside the cell.

Despite him watching her every move this was a sign of his arrogance as much as it was a manipulation. He trusted her, or rather his control of her, to cuff every single one of the brats while he watched high and mightily at the side—but at the same time he was purposefully giving her power over them—reinforcing her pride and her actions, as well as destroying the trust the students had in her. Separating them. Enforcing a hard separation.

There was one, there would always be one—but she refused to be manipulated by it.

But which student to hand over the keys. It would have to be one who could act—who wouldn’t show. The Reaper was watching to closely for even the slightest of mistakes.

Karma would be perfect—but he would be too obvious. Nagisa and Itona as well. They were all on the Reaper’s radar.

But someone more invisible—at least invisible to him. One of her girls perhaps. Yada would be good—but she was too close to the bars, so was Nakamura. Kurahashi was too likely to show surprise with how emotional she was already being.

No. Someone more invisible. Someone he wouldn’t have bothered to pay any mind to.

Hana would likely show, Okano as well, Hayami would be too likely to have breached his radar if only barely… but maybe…

Three more students passed and then she got to Kaede. The girl was sullen, eyes glaring at the ground and she refused to look or speak to her.

The glare only worsened as Irina slipped the keys into her hand. Irina was relived even as she snorted and somewhat roughly moved to the next one.

Kaede was a better actor than she had thought—good.

Hopefully she wouldn’t use her gift too early.

Karasuma and the Target showed.

On one hand _good_—any wrench in the Reaper’s plan was a crack to exploit—but also bad in that this meant the plan was being sped up—she had little time left to change anything.

She hit the Target, only because she knew the Reaper would likely blow her up if she didn’t, and she kept up her act even through Karasuma’s flabbergasted confusion.

_She hadn’t enjoyed his touch on her arms—the concern as he called out her name—she hadn’t._

His words stung. She hated that they did. He had no idea—none at all. She might have been making the easy decision, the “carefree” one, but considering the other was to die and have one of the brat’s take her place… he had _no_ idea.

And his choice to put the children’s lives over the world’s—that was by far the carefree one. He was choosing with his heart not his head.

Even if him punching Reaper across the room was _extremely_ satisfying.

_And hot._

Shit, no!

The children’s words were worse—and that pissed her off more. They had even less of an idea—but it gave her an excuse to throw her collar into the cage—they could dissect it without risking each other.

She had looked in on the collars and found them simple to diffuse—painfully simple even. She couldn’t risk disarming them—but she had swallowed the tool necessary to safely do so with plans of passing it along. To her cynical bemusement she needn’t have bothered—the Reaper hadn’t given the order to disarm the kids—they had all their tools in their pockets.

More arrogance.

With Itona and Takebayashi they would be fine.

Additionally she had managed to duplicate the signal to open the gate to the cell and imputed it into her car’s fob—it had been way easier than expected. The Reaper had been too sure that once he separated them from Ritsu that they would be helpless on that front.

And with Karasuma distracting the Reaper—they had the chance to escape.

Now she just had to give them as much time as she could.

Despite knowing she’d detached the mechanisms for firing earlier she still called out the safe word before she turned the corner. The dogs perked up from where they had been cowering in the corner—just _what _had Karasuma done to them—but she smiled slightly as she passed by, glad to see both they, and from lack of blood and bullet holes, Karasuma were unharmed.

She continued on and it wasn’t long before Karasuma came into view, his back to her, silhouetted in the doorframe.

She raised her gun and aimed for his head. The Reaper was right—her bullet would aim true. Karasuma had no idea she was here. He had never once through she would come after him. That she was a threat to him.

_Even good men, you will find, do so at an internal—cultural built—level._

In the end Karasuma was no different.

Reaper’s whispers muttered in the back of her head as she watched as the two conversed. _He doesn’t understand. He will never understand. He would never see her. Understand her._

For the briefest moment she was tempted to aim true. To make him see. To prove it.

Then she crinkled her nose and shifted a hair to the right.

She shot.

“Karasuma-sensei! Karasuma-sensei!”

Karasuma sent one last dark look down the way the Reaper had went, before he finally pulled out his transmitter. He could care less about the target right now, but the students would be just as worried.

“Yes.”

“Finally! We heard and explosion! Are you alright! And Irina-sensei?”

Karasuma frowned and glanced back at Irina again. She hadn’t moved. “I’m fine—but she’s pinned under some rubble.” He sighed and turned back to the debris blocking his path. “I don’t have time to worry about that right now. I’ll clear away the rubble from the path and—”

“No! Why aren’t you helping her?”

Karasuma sighed and continued to struggle to move away rubble, getting nowhere. “Kurahashi-san… In her own way she took action to prioritize results. I won’t blame her but neither will I help her. A pro takes responsibility for their actions.”

“This has nothing to do with being a professional,” she snapped back in a very un-Kurahashi way. Enough so that Karasuma paused in his efforts. “Irina’s hurt! What’s professional about leaving her to die!”

“She doesn’t seem to have lethal wounds,” he managed even though he knew it was a weak excuse—he had no idea the damage she had sustained under the rubble. Her ribs could be crushed, a pierced lung, internal bleeding, an amputated leg—it was all possible. He wasn’t even close enough to know if she was breathing.

She very well could die if he didn’t see to her.

She may already be dead.

But the children.

“I don’t have time,” he explained. “If he gets to the control room all of you—”

“Don’t worry about us! We’re free!”

Karasuma blinked. “You… _are?_”

“Yes! Bitch-Sensei slipped Kaede the keys to the collar—and she flung her collar at us in anger, or maybe it was fake anger…? And we figured out how to disable them! And the keys had a car fob that when we pressed the button it opened the door in the gate!” Kurahashi rushed excitedly.

“Yeah! She was like a double agent!” Nakamura pipped in.

Karasuma gaped. He hadn’t… he hadn’t even considered that…

He remembered the dogs and their guns. How they had growled but otherwise nothing had happened. How they had seemed confused. He had assumed that the Reaper hadn’t had time to set the trap and run past—but if instead…

He turned back to Irina and his stomach flipped uncomfortably.

“You could have told me that,” he snapped as he moved towards her.

“Sorry,” the Target said sheepishly. “We were worried about you.”

He grunted.

“Please help, Irina-sensei. We are making our way up to you now.”

“I will, just… be careful.”

“Let me know if you need help!”

He slipped his transmitter into his pocket and carefully made the last few steps. The rubble on top of Irina was precarious—one wrong move and the debris keeping the large slab from completely crushing her would fall. He had to be smart with this.

But he also had to be fast—if she had sustained major injuries…

Well… if she had there was only so much he could do. He had no medical supplies.

He carefully removed piece after piece. This close he could see she was at least still breathing—and not to weakly—so at least her lungs seemed to be working. She was unconscious—but occasionally made sounds of pain as rubble shifted so not to deeply either.

She awoke as he shouldered the last piece off, staring up at him in open-eyed wonder, and he couldn’t help but admit he was relived.

She didn’t say anything as she crawled out, nor as he sat before her and removed his shirt to make a makeshift cast. Instead she just stared at him, almost as if in a trance, and he couldn’t help but worry about a concussion.

“Irina?”

She blinked from her trance, face flushing, and glanced away. She continued to be mute.

“The children told me how you saved them.” He frowned at himself. “I’m sorry… I… misjudged you.”

She snorted. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?”

“You say it like there was a real choice.” She turned to him and gave him a dark grin—one that was _almost_ believable if it wasn’t for the slight shakiness. “As soon as the Reaper had me I was dead no matter what happened. If I refused… if I helped. Don’t make it sound if it was anything more than a pragmatic choice.”

Somehow he doubted it was that simple. Yes—he could see the danger she had been in but… he still couldn’t fully buy it.

But why did Irina want him to?

Her eyes dropped and her voice went almost monotone. “He’s been killing off Lovro’s agents, he… he… he _killed _Lovro. Red Eye told me.”

Karasuma frowned. “Lovro isn’t dead.”

Her eyes snapped up, wide and unfocused—she _had_ to have at least a minor concussion. _“What?”_

“Lovro called me this afternoon—to warn me about the Reaper,” he told her, almost unnerved with how she was looking at him. “He’d been attacked and was in a coma… but he’s still alive.”

“Oh.” Her eyes somehow went wider as her good arm curled up to her chest. “Oh.”

Karasuma frowned, but before he could say anything—not that he knew what to say—footsteps echoed.

The Reaper was returning—he must have realized the children had escaped.

Karasuma considered the way back—with clearing the rubble off of Irina he had opened up a pathway. Perhaps he could take Irina and run—or would it be better to hold his ground.

“Go.” Karasuma blinked down to Irina who seemed more aware, her lips pursed and eyes dark. She nodded up to the rubble at the side. “I got this.”

An ambush. She was implying they set up an ambush.

He paused for only a moment, nodded, and turned.

“And be careful… Red Eye said he had a trick—he pointed at him and nearly killed him.”

Karasuma didn’t pause—but he heard.

“Irina… where is Karasuma?”

Irina glared at the ground, slumped and sullen. “He was gone when I woke up… he must have ran back to look for another path.”

She lulled her head towards him, playing up her concussion. “You’re an ass you know—blowing me up to.”

For a moment Reaper was quiet—and then almost in a snap his guard was down. He laughed. “Yeah—sorry about that, but if I hadn’t done that I wouldn’t have been able to achieve my goal.”

Karasuma watched all of this with half an eye as he slowly, painstakingly, moved around them. He had to be careful—one wrong move and the farce would be up. And he may not even be the one who would pay for it.

The Reaper’s grin turned sinister. “Our world is one of deceive and be deceived—you understand of course, don’t you?”

Irina was quiet for a second as Karasuma carefully climbed down behind the Reaper, and then she smiled with a huff of a laugh. “Yes… I understand.” She smirked. “After all—I’m just a bitch who goes from one man to another.”

She lifted up her bandaged arm and Karasuma struck as the Reaper gaped, grabbing him from under his arms and falling backwards.

“He was a man of astounding skills, but he overestimated those skills to much. In a way, part of him was immature—and so he had an opening.”

“But still—I don’t understand how you could tear off your own face?”

“Apparently it from an incident from childhood—he witnessed a hitman’s high level skill and his entire world view changed.”

“The one who influenced him was foolish,” the Target said gravely. Karasuma frowned at him—he was being more sullen than usual. “With that much talent—his skills should have been influenced in another way.”

“…Whether you give life or you kill—I guess it depends on the people and world around you…” Karasuma mused.

_“You’re going to die, Irina.”_

_“I’m well prepared for that… but you wouldn’t understand. He though… he understood. Said we were one and the same…”_

_“If you kill, people die. That’s all there is.”_

_I’ll tell you the truth Karasuma. I truly grew up in a wealthy household with no want for anything. Yeah, it was a complete lie that I grew up in a tragic environment—just an acquaintance’s story with a few changed details. I used some social engineering to manipulate that girl. It was _easy.

He had been wrong. He hadn’t manipulated her…

Or at least, he hadn’t won her over.

Instead he’d been the one manipulated… and yet…

“Exactly,” The Target said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Right, Irina-sensei?”

Irina glanced up tiredly from where she had been leaning against the wall several meters down.

“Hmm?”

The Target smiled. “I believe the class has something to say to you.”

It didn’t take anything else before the class was surrounding her, Thank you’s and questions about what happened and how she tricked the Reaper spilling out in a rush. Irina’s eyes went wide and she automatically lifted her arms before catching herself. She flipped her hair back and put on a face of haughty indifference.

“Yeah, well—if you want to thank me you could stop calling me Bitch-sensei.”

The students laughed. “Sorry, Bitch-sensei.”

“Yeah, it’s stuck now.”

“It’s too late.”

“How did you trick the Reaper?”

“How did you meet him?”

“It was pretty cool how you took us out, honestly.”

“Yeah, can you teach us how to do that?”

“That’s enough,” Karasuma called out. Normally Irina would be basking in their attention—but at the moment she just looked uncomfortable and increasingly panicked. It was worrying him—concussion or shock passed through his thoughts. “Irina’s been through a lot tonight, you can ask questions later. Give her some room.”

The kids backed off, if only a little, suddenly looking more concerned.

“I’ve called for an ambulance, it should be here soon.”

Irina’s nose crinkled. “Honestly,” she admitted. “I just want to get back to my hotel and go to sleep.”

He hadn’t realized Irina was still staying at a hotel. “That may be—but I would highly suggest getting looked at. You’ll want your arm to heal properly—and you likely have a concussion.”

She shrugged a little bit. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Karasuma frowned. “That may be—but it’s unprofessional to not seek medical help when you can.”

She snorted, her nose crinkling again, and she peered at him from the corner of her eyes. “Oh—and are _you_ going?”

“Yes.”

He hadn’t actually meant to go to the hospital—he was needed at the scene and only had minor injuries, but presuming the containment team got here before they left than it wouldn’t hurt to leave it to them. Plus it would be a good example for the students.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “Fine,” she said stiffly, more because she was trapped than in agreement.

Karasuma nodded his head. “It should be here soon.”

Irina grunted, but if nothing else, when the ambulance came—she went.


	2. Not What He Wanted

Things changed

Karasuma should have been glad. Irina had stopped with her relentless flirting and inappropriate behavior, but…

She hadn’t just stopped, instead it seemed like… like she was _avoiding_ him.

No… not avoiding him but… keeping a very professional distance. She spoke to him only when she needed to as a teacher or as a fellow hitman. She was quiet otherwise. Her quips and bantering with the Target had lessened if not quite disappeared thanks to the Targets increased efforts and nagging ways. She interacted with the students a bit more but even then… something felt a bit off.

A distance—a separation.

She’d been incredibly uncomfortable when several of the students had hugged her before they were driven home. She had been uncomfortable with their praise and attentions. Normally she would have eaten that up.

But mostly she just seemed… lost in her own head.

He should be glad—that Irina was acting more professional, that’s what he wanted after all but… he wasn’t.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!”

Karasuma glared at the Target blocking his way.

“What are you shushing about,” he hissed, trying to get by. He had a lot of work to do.

The Target over-exaggeratedly moved just enough to point at Irina, asleep at the desk.

Karasuma frowned. Sleeping at school was unprofessional but… he had noticed the bags under her eyes growing steadily since the Reaper Incident—no matter how hard she tried to hide them with make-up—the efforts in which had seemed to be steadily declining as well.

“I’ll be quiet,” he promised and reluctantly the Target moved away from the door, allowing him access. He began to set up his laptop.

“I should move her,” the Target muttered. Karasuma was about to ask where when suddenly there was a couch shoved against the far wall. He rolled his eyes and went about finding all the paperwork he needed.

“AHHHH!” The Target screamed and Karasuma hurt his neck as he looked up, his eyes wide as he took in the scene.

The Target was huddling against the door, an anti-sensei knife lodged into his chest just next to his tie. On the other side of the room was Irina, eyes wide and breathing heavily, body hunched protectively.

For a moment it was awkward. Then Irina straightened and managed a haughty laugh. “Almost got you this time.”

The Target just stared back, astonished.

Irina’s smirk fell. “I should go… English will start soon.”

Karasuma frowned as she strode across the room. “It’s still—” The door slammed.

“I barely touched her,” the Target finally said into the silence. A shaky tentacle reaching for a handkerchief to remove the knife.

Karasuma just frowned, staring at the closed door.

Something had happened while Irina was with the Reaper—that was obvious—and now it was affecting her, heavily.

He just didn’t know what.

Irina shook with adrenalin when she found a quiet spot a few trees into the forest. She could hear the children playing soccer in the yard, but she was far enough away that they wouldn’t see her. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

She hadn’t actually smoked since Nagisa’s warning—it hadn’t always been easy but she had been prepared to face it for a chance at that prize—but now…what did it matter. Any chance of an ambush was long gone—if she did get a chance it would be as a surprise attack when he knew she was there. Trickery.

But that wasn’t likely either.

And honestly—she wasn’t sure if she cared.

Her hands were still shaking as she took her first drag. She had never been a deep sleeper—not when she wasn’t alone and in a secure location and even then. For someone like her that was a death sentence—she spent far too much time in other’s beds to be that vulnerable.

Normally she didn’t react so harshly to awakening… normally she didn’t keep having those dreams…

Normally she wasn’t quite so on edge.

Normally didn’t exist anymore.

Fuck, she was tired.

She finished her cigarette and rubbed the butt on a boulder she’d been leaning against. Once she was sure it was out she flicked it to the ground. It was littering but she really didn’t care.

She smelled like smoke—she knew she did, and frankly she didn’t care about that either. If the others did—well it wasn’t any of their business. Teachers smoked—she seen several of the teacher down the mountain doing so.

She was being—HAH—_Normal_

She returned to the school. It was almost time for English class.

Karasuma wasn’t getting any work done.

No, that was wrong—he was, but not at the speed he usually did and certainly not at the speed he needed to do with the amount of trips he’d been sent on the last month or so.

It was ridiculous.

But he was distracted.

Irina sat in front of him, typing on the keyboard she had connected to her tablet, brows furrowed as she worked. Silent.

Irina had never been a bad teacher—once she started trying. In fact he had been surprised how well the children had responded to even her first few lessons—unique as they tended to be, but lately she had thrown herself into the work.

Before she avoided as much as possible giving homework or assignments she had to grade latter—but that had begun to change—enough so that he had heard students grumbling. Her time in the teacher room had changed from reading magazines and scrolling social media to making teacher plans and grading. And when she wasn’t doing that he’d noticed her scrolling through her database of contacts—or writing in Cyrillic.

And unless she had a question—she didn’t speak to him at all.

This is what he wanted—why did it bother him?

Why was it distracting him?

“Is there something on my face?”

Karasuma blinked and realized his thoughts had wandered while he was looking at her. Properly seeing her now he couldn’t help note the bags under her eyes, the almost dull look in her gaze. The perfectly neutral expression that she hadn’t dropped for weeks.

“When is the last time you slept?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Last night,” she said dryly and he rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

She shut down even more though a flash of distaste, maybe even disgust, passed across her face for a second. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business,” she told him primly, getting up and beginning to pack away her things. “If you’re worried about my ability to teach or kill—I’m as good as always.”

Karasuma’s stomach dropped though for the life of him he couldn’t decipher why.

She left.

It would never be enough—would it.

Karasuma was worried about her sleeping habits. How tired she was.

Worried about her effectivity on the field she was sure.

She would never be “professional” enough would she?

No. Not for him. Not for Mister Professional.

Fuck. It didn’t matter.

Her hands were shaking as she lit her cigarette and she took in a deep drag in response. It had helped at first—barely—but the nicotine didn’t seem to do jackshit against her nerves anymore.

Lovro had been right. That jackass had been right. This job was going to ruin her.

She should leave—though it may have been too late but… she couldn’t…

Ignoring the saving the world bit—she highly doubted at this point that the Octopus would actually go through with killing his precious students honestly—but she… she cared.

She cared about the students. She shouldn’t but… she did.

And they… they cared back. They had honestly meant well with the flowers. Every single one had endangered themselves to come save her alone. They had come together to make a card and cake as an apology and make up birthday for her. It had taken everything to not cry as she was surprised with that. The really, _truly_ did care.

Even the fucking Octopus.

And that made it worse. It made it so much worse. Knowing that this would all end. That she was just playing the part until the end of the year. Knowing what she was going to lose.

She was feeling what it was like to have people who cared for her. Liked her. _Truly_—and it would end. It would be ripped from her once March hit. It would have been easier if it was all fake.

She could leave if it had all been fake.

But it wasn’t.

And so she couldn’t.

She had to stay. To stay for the students. To keep an eye on them. There were other ruthless hitman out there. Shiro was still out there. She didn’t trust any of it.

And they were going to have to kill—and once they did…

Would they become like her. Broke and lost and wrong.

She couldn’t let that happen. She would make sure they were safe. She would see it through.

No matter how the idea of the Octopus dying was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. No matter that Karasuma…

Karasuma…

…that it hurt every time he was near—like a knife twisting her heart. There were no illusions with him—he had made it perfectly clear—they were coworkers until March and then it would be over. Nothing more… nothing less. She wouldn’t see him again.

And that was good—because she was pretty sure the pain would kill her eventually otherwise.

“Irina… I wish to speak with you.”

Irina sighed tiredly, but stopped packing up, turning around and crossing her arms. “What? What am I doing wrong_ this_ time?”

Karasuma paused at her dull tone, uncertainty causing him to hesitate before he pushed forward.

“I have noticed that recently—you have been acting differently.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Only just noticing it, are we?”

He sighed. “I mentioned it because it’s starting to concern me.”

She snorted. “Of course it is—it’s never enough or you is it?”

“Irina—”

“I thought this is what you wanted?” She smirked and for a moment he wondered if this was all a ploy to get back at him. To prove him wrong. That what he had wanted wasn’t actually what he wanted…

And… she would be right… wouldn’t she.

_…Huh…_

But it wasn’t a ploy. That wouldn’t explain how she was treating the students and the Target. It wouldn’t explain how to spiteful humor on her face faded almost instantly to tiredness as she turned from him.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” he admitted and she froze.

After a long moment she shook her head—almost panicky. “No. You weren’t.” She smiled at him over her shoulder with a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Honestly, thank you, that was the best gift you could have given me.” She looked back away, her bangs covering her eyes. “A reminder of the truth, that this is all just a job. So don’t let those brats convince you otherwise—they don’t understand.”

Understand again. It was always understand.

She was right—he didn’t understand.

But she didn’t either. And there was this desperate panicky feelings whirling inside of him—that if he didn’t make her understand then… then…

“I was manipulated when I said that,” he told her. “Though it still was cruel—”

“Manipulated—with the truth, yes—he was good at that.” She shrugged, before going back to pulling on her coat. “Doesn’t change that it was the truth.”

He froze for a second himself, but then shook his head as he followed her out of the door into the empty school building, hand reaching for her shoulder. The way she tensed when he touched her made his heart pound.

“Perhaps not. Presuming we don’t die—which I can’t promise we won’t—I see no reason you couldn’t keep in contact with the children. In fact they likely would be saddened if you didn’t.”

Her eyes met his, and she was silent as she thought before she shook her head. “They don’t deserve that—it’s too much a risk in dragging them into my world.” Her voice went softer. “They don’t deserve that. To become like me.”

Karasuma frowned. “What would be wrong with that?” he continued without real thought. Logically he knew she was talking about becoming an assassin—something he hoped the children didn’t do either—but the idea they would become like her. Strong willed and charismatic and determined to continually grow and learn…

Irina snorted almost hysterically. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” She actually laughed as she turned to him, dropping her bag without a careful thought for the tablet inside. “How can you even ask that—are you _blind?_”

He was beginning to think he was.

She laughed, this time definitely hysterically. “You want them to be a broken mess! To not be able to sleep at night and have hands that won’t stop shaking. You want them to not feel a thing as a life fades right in front of them. You want them to shut down their emotions until they can’t tell what they are anymore.” Tears began leaking from her eyes to Karasuma astonishment. He stood frozen, unsure of what to do. “You want them to spur relationships with others unless they can use them, and run from them when they got to strong. You want them to _arrogant_ and _stupid_ and not even know how to _dress_ appropriately for a _school _trip!”

She choked on a sob. “You want them to be a _bitch. _You want them to be_ twisted!_ You want them _part_ of that _world!_”

He couldn’t watch this any longer and without really thinking he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. He could feel her tense—feel the start of the proper movement to break this kind of grasp—though he would more than let her pull away if she wanted—but then she paused, and then she collapsed, crying messily into his shoulder, her hands clenching the back of his jacket almost painfully.

He was somewhat surprised with himself, but he held her tightly frozen on what to do next. She seemed to be getting some comfort—he hoped—from the embrace but he had to do more.

He wasn’t good with comforting, nor was he good with words—but he _had_ to try.

“That day,” he said lowly, after clearing his throat. “I’m sorry for what I said. Ultimately I was taking out the frustration and stress I’ve been under out on you—and that was cruel. I am sorry.”

He was ignoring the elephant in the room—but he didn’t even know where to begin with what she had just said. Instead he rubbed his thumb in circle on her shoulder blade, feeling some of the tensions melt—if only slightly. He remembered his mother doing this when he’d been reduced to angry tears as a child—he remembered finding it calming. Hopefully it would help her the same.

“And ultimately—I was wrong.” He concluded, completely sure this time. Irina hiccupped a bit and he could feel her still. She was listening. “I was wrong. I didn’t realize at the time but… the students were miserable without you, the Target was miserable without you and I…”

The pause was pregnant. He could feel Irina swallow as it stretched on and knew he needed to finish his thought but he didn’t know how.

“I—” he frowned hard… “I was lacking compassion and being to hung up on being a professional. And after I was trying too hard to convince myself that I didn’t regret it. In reality… I think it would have been odd… after all this time… for you to not be around.” He tightened his grips slightly. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment Irina snorted into his chest and finally pulled back. Karasuma felt as if he had said the wrong thing but despite that Irina looked less miserable, if still exhausted. “I won’t be though…” she said softly.

Karasuma swallowed. “Perhaps not…” he started slowly, an idea forming in his head. “You don’t have to continue being an assassin.”

Irina snorted pulling away fully and Karasuma was shocked to realize he mourned the loss. Her face twisted—in something approaching anger and frustration—but not quite making it. “Oh—and what will I do then—what could I do then.” She shook her head. “I can’t just pretend that… that everything that had happened—the blood of my past isn’t there…”

“Join me in the ministry.”

Her jaw dropped and she stared. “What?”

“Join me. With your talents you would more than excel there,” he continued, becoming surer of himself. “I would assure they didn’t look to close to your past.”

She gaped a bit more, and then darkened. “So instead of being an assassin who chooses her own missions—become one that has to do what she’s told—sounds great considering this is the place that hired _Shiro_.”

Karasuma parsed his lips. He couldn’t deny her misgivings—he had his own similar ones. “I’m not saying it will be easy,” he explained. “It’s often not—but it’s a position where good can be done…” he paused, debating his next words. “Will you… will you help me do good.”

Irina was silent, staring at him—long enough that he began to get uncomfortable, and then she sighed, her arms drifting up to hug herself.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” she muttered. Karasuma nodded.

“It’s your choice, but… know this, Irina.” His hand reached out, and with a single finger under her jaw he eased her into meeting his eyes. “I don’t know about the world you grew up in—but in one way or another—the students and I—we _need_ you in _our_ world.”

Her eyes went wide.

Irina swallowed

She remembered those words—the ones she had blocked out in her anger, and hurt, and exhaustion—in her depression.

“_Perhaps you should have made a reliable friend.”_

He’d been… he’d been talking about _her._

He… he liked her—he cared for her in his weird confusing way. He tried to convince himself he hadn’t and _failed._

He’d embraced her after she broke down. His hold had been warm and soft and _right._

_Safe._

She swallowed again.

He was offering her a place at his side—asking her for her help in helping the world. She may have had little trust in the Ministry of Defense’s noble intentions but Karasuma—He was a good person. He really did want to help—even if it went against the Ministry…

He’d saved the children even though he could have killed the Target and saved the world.

When this was all over… she didn’t… she didn’t have to leave.

She was still unsure about joining the Ministry but… Karasuma… the students…they didn’t… they didn’t want her to leave.

“I’ll think about it,” she repeated quietly, but deep down she knew she had already made her choice.

And considering the slight smile Karasuma gave her—and oh did that make her heart pound—she had a feeling he knew as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally this story was going to be a oneshot, but as I wrote it I realzied that all the changes would lead to Irina and Karasuma not getting all the character development they had in canon--so I needed to see that through. I hope you enjoy!


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